James Swain - Super Con

The camera panned to show Mags behind the felt layout, flashing a smile.

“In Night and Day , Mags plays a Nevada gaming agent who catches cheats by day, then at night robs casinos being run by ruthless owners and donates the loot to charity,” Rand said. “Think of it as Robin Hood takes on Sin City. To prepare for her role, Mags has taught herself scams being used to cheat the casinos. She’d like to share one with you now.”

“Thank you, Rand, and hello everyone,” Mags said, turning on the charm. “The scam I’m about to show you is called the Savannah and has cost Las Vegas’s roulette tables millions of dollars. It may be the cleverest swindle ever invented.”

She pointed at the cloth-covered betting area. “This is called the layout, and it’s here that the swindle takes place. The roulette wheel has thirty-six numbers, a zero, and a double zero. There are two types of bets a player can make: inside bets and outside bets. Inside bets are wagers a player can make on a number coming up, and they have huge payouts. Outside bets offer smaller payouts but have better odds. A player can bet red or black, odd or even, high or low. These bets pay even money. The Savannah is done with an outside bet. Here’s how it works. Rand is going to be our croupier. Ready when you are, my friend.”

Rand edged up to the wheel. “Place your bets.”

Mags removed three red chips from her purse. Red chips were worth five dollars apiece. She placed the three chips in an uneven stack on the red box on the layout.

“Let it rip,” Mags said.

Rand spun the wheel and sent the tiny white ball spinning in the opposite direction. The ball came to rest on number sixteen, which was red. Mags clapped her hands.

“Look at that! I just won five thousand dollars!”

Rand acted puzzled. “But you only bet fifteen dollars.”

“No, I didn’t. See for yourself.”

Rand spread the three chips on the red box. To his surprise, the bottom chip of the stack was a brown five-thousand-dollar chip. “How did that get there?”

“I put it there. You just didn’t see it.” Mags picked up the three chips and put them in a stack. “By pushing the top chip forward, the bottom chip is hidden from view.”

“So it was always there, just out of sight.”

“That’s right. Now, I know what you’re wondering. What happens if the little ball lands on a black number, and I lose the bet? That’s where the Savannah happens. Roll the wheel again and I’ll show you.”

Rand resumed his croupier role. “Place your bets, please.”

Mags again placed the three chips in an uneven stack on the red box. Rand spun the wheel and sent the little white ball in motion. This time, the ball landed on number thirty-three, which was black, a loser. Mags leaned forward and craned her neck to see. As she did, her hands briefly brushed her bet. So slight was her movement that it was nearly imperceptible.

“Damn!” she exclaimed. “I just lost fifteen dollars.”

“No, you didn’t,” Rand said, completely in the dark. “You lost five grand.”

“Afraid not. Have a look.”

Rand spread the three chips in the red box. His face registered surprise. The bottom chip had magically turned red. “Where did the five-thousand-dollar chip go?”

“It’s right here in my hot little hand.”

Mags brought her left hand up to the camera and opened her fingers. Two red chips and one brown chip were palmed at the base of her fingers. Rand’s mouth dropped open. So did the director’s. And so did Amber’s. She’d fooled them all.

“Every good scam has a clever angle that makes it work,” she explained. “The Savannah is such a scam. Casino employees are trained to watch winning bets in roulette. As a result, they don’t see the losing bet getting switched. It’s the perfect swindle.”

Rand let out a laugh, hamming it up. “And there you have it. The perfect con, delivered by the incredibly talented Maggie Flynn, star of Night and Day . We look forward to delivering a finished pilot to you in the next few weeks. Thanks for your time.”

“That’s a cut,” Hud said. “Man, did that look sweet.”

“Show me,” Rand said.

Rand went around the table and stood with their director. Together they stared at the tiny screen on the back of the camera and watched Mags switch the stack of chips.

“Unreal,” Hud said. “You hardly see her hands move.”

“The guys at CBS are going to love this,” Rand gushed.

Mags walked away from the table feeling queasy. She’d scammed plenty of casinos with the Savannah and never had a problem. Yet performing the move in front of a camera tied her stomach up in knots, and it made her wonder if she was cut out to be an actress.

“Mom, are you okay?” Amber asked.

“I’m fine. What did you think?”

“I think you’re going to pass out if you don’t sit down. You’re all pale.”

Amber found a chair, and Mags fell into it. She’d been running ragged for days, the tension building up inside her like a pressure cooker ready to explode. The show was riding on her shoulders, and the fear of failure had become too great. She couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Stay put. I’m going to get you some water,” Amber said.

Her daughter left. Mags tried to get her act together. The show was her chance to set a positive example for Amber. Mom makes good had a nicer ring than Mom does time .

Amber returned with a bottled water and a guest in tow. It was none other than Special Agent Grimes with a pair of nickel-plated handcuffs clipped to his belt.

Oh shit, Mags thought.

They moved the party to Mags’s trailer. While Mags and Amber took chairs, Grimes positioned himself so he blocked the door. Frank wasn’t like most gaming agents. The sole purpose of his life was to wage war against the town’s cheats and hustlers, whom he despised. Mags had slept with him for eighteen months and still marveled at the darkness of his soul.

“I’m going to destroy you,” was his opening line.

Mags lit up a menthol cigarette and blew a blue cloud in his face. “Really.”

“Does your daughter know about your past?”

“What Amber does or doesn’t know is none of your concern.”

“My mom beat the casinos, and you weren’t smart enough to catch her,” Amber said.

Frank looked like he just might snap. Out of his pocket came the photo of the three members of the Gypsies having lunch with the claimer, which he waved in Mags’s face. “I had these people in my crosshairs. You tipped them off and they blew town, and my investigation went up in flames. You’re going to pay for this, Maggie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Frank, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

“Let me refresh your failing memory. While I was giving you and Rand a tour of LINQ’s surveillance room, a tech named Blake made one of the Gypsies capping his bets at blackjack. You slipped into a restroom and either made a phone call or sent a text. A few minutes later, the Gypsy bolted and ran. We were right behind him, only his family had a getaway car, which the Gypsy hopped into. We got everything on tape, except the getaway car’s license plate.”

“What a shame,” Mags said.

“Admit it, you tipped him off.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Of course you did! Why else would the Gypsy run? For the love of Christ, he left his chips on the table. He knew we were going to bust him because you told him.”

“Where’s your proof?” Amber interrupted.

“Who the hell is she, your fucking lawyer?” Frank snapped.

“Watch your mouth around my daughter.”

“How touching. Maggie the doting mother. I can hear violins in the background.”